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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27061315">balter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelysamedt/pseuds/sincerelysamedt'>sincerelysamedt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Boys In Love, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Slow Dancing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:21:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27061315</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelysamedt/pseuds/sincerelysamedt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p> Gon looks up, wide-eyed and maybe a bit shocked being caught either doing a bad rain chant or a bad and inaccurate chimp impression. Either way, it's hilarious. He feels his mouth twitch.</p>
  <p>"Killuaaaa." Gon whines. "Don't laugh!"</p>
  <p>Of course, Killua laughs.</p>
</blockquote>Contrary to popular speculation, Gon is not graceful.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>166</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>balter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>balter<br/>(v.); to tumble or dance clumsily.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Contrary to popular speculation, Gon is not graceful.</p><p>He is a living disaster, a whirlwind of a boy, blustering through the lives of people around him, demanding attention and time and room. He elbows his way through crowds, walks backwards on barriers overlooking rivers, and cannot hold in a laugh even if his life and grades depended on it, and in Bisky's class it usually does.</p><p>If there wasn't a sun in the center of his storm, he shouldn't get away with a <em> fraction </em> of the things he's done, like throwing a ball at Razor-sensei's face during that one gym class. In Gon's defense, Razor-sensei did ask for him to "give it all he's got" and to "not hold back or else I'll have you expelled".</p><p>Hunter Academy faculty can be intense. The school itself is unconventional at best and downright insane if being honest. The price of excellence, as Principal Netero claims every school ceremony.</p><p>It's no wonder why Mother adamantly refused to let him enroll.</p><p>It's perfect for Gon, though, and that was all that mattered to seven year old Killua Zoldyck, wondering which elite private school to choose from the myriad of options his father presented to him, only to be sidetracked, no, <em> derailed </em> by a whirlwind of a boy, a living disaster, blustering and bungling and ravaging his way through the playground just to ask, no, <em> demand </em>for Killua to play tag with him, the way the sun demands you look its way and will not accept no for an answer.</p><p>The rest, as they say, is history.</p><p>So it is this graceless Gon, who gets away with too much because he is kind and polite and has light sitting patiently at the corners of his mouth, who bumps into strangers because he doesn't watch where he's going, never looks before he leaps then laughs when he falls into rivers even though <em>there are railings for a reason please don't run on them</em>, who picks fights with teachers and upperclassmen and upperclassmen from <em>different schools </em>and complete <em>strangers </em>over Zushi and Kurapika and Kite <em>who's your godfather dumbass, </em>even sprained Illu-nii's wrist once when they were twelve, then comes to Killua, sometimes Leorio, but mostly Killua to get yelled at, patched up, too, but mostly yelled at because he <em>doesn't </em>care what he does to Killua's heart-</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It is this graceless, stupid, ridiculous, careless Gon that Killua finds with his hands lifted in the air like he's peering out a window, turning slowly <em> wow you can go slow? </em> and carefully <em> oh, so you can be careful? </em> in the center of the "organized" dumpsite of his room.</p><p>Light, tinkling music spills over from Gon's battered phone, placed precariously on the very edge of his unmade bed. <em> Lo-fi </em>, Killua thinks.</p><p>Gon looks up, wide-eyed and maybe a bit shocked being caught either doing a bad rain chant or a bad <em> and </em> inaccurate chimp impression. Either way, it's hilarious. He feels his mouth twitch.</p><p>"Killuaaaa." Gon whines. "Don't laugh!"</p><p>Of course, Killua laughs.</p><p>Gon puts down his hands and stomps his foot, cheeks puffed out, scowling.</p><p>Killua laughs even louder.</p><p>"Mito told me you've been up here all day playing stupid lo-fi music on repeat. She wanted to believe you were studying but then remembered what kind of person her son is." He manages through a particularly nasty fit of giggles.</p><p>Even in tears, Killua dodges Gon grabbing at him. He flits over piles of dirty and clean laundry as Gon chases after him, stacks of books and papers, a water gun he last saw in the summer four months ago.</p><p>"Her second theory was that you got your heart broken and you were playing sad break-up songs while you mope." Gon's fingers come way too close to the collar of Killua's shirt and he <em> likes </em>this shirt, okay, so he jumps on the bed to get away and the impact sends Gon's phone clattering to the floor.</p><p>
  <em> "Boys!" </em>
</p><p>They wince.</p><p>Too bad it didn't land on Gon's soccer uniform.</p><p>"Sorry!" They both call out.</p><p>Forgiveness is screaming and then silence, as that one viral video said, so when Mito doesn't yell anything back, the tense anticipation in the lines of their shoulders relaxes. They laugh uproariously.</p><p>"What are you doing here, Killua?"</p><p>Killua drops his weight on the bed, bouncing, while Gon picks up his phone and checks it over.</p><p>"What were <em> you </em> doing? You weren't answering my texts, Knuckle said you haven't been coming to wrestling, and Mito told me you've just been cooped up here, playing music."</p><p>Killua hopes it isn't about Kite. Or Kurapika. They don't need another trip to the police station or the hospital.</p><p>Seemingly satisfied with the already atrocious condition of his phone, Gon plops beside Killua on the bed and looks at him with wide, polished copper eyes, a secret curling into the light that naps in his smile.</p><p>
  <em> This is why you get away with so much shit. </em>
</p><p>Gon pokes at his forehead and presses hard.</p><p>"Hey! What the fuck, Gon!" Killua flings himself backwards, the pressure of Gon's fingertip still vivid under his bangs, prickling through his skull.</p><p>"You were getting that wrinkle on your forehead again." Gon states simply. "The one you get when you're thinking too hard."</p><p>Killua glares. How dare this idiot. "Someone has to, and between the two of us, it sure as fuck hasn't been you."</p><p>Gon just grins wider.</p><p>"Don't worry! I'm not going to do anything stupid."</p><p>He wants to ask, <em> your definition of stupid and my definition of stupid are often really different, </em>but.</p><p>Gon's grin goes soft. Small. His eyes, polished copper and smelted gold, crinkle at the corners. The warmth from the poke spreads downwards to Killua's neck. He's tempted to look around, look behind him, what could Gon be staring at like-- like <em> that? </em></p><p>"I'm practicing!"</p><p>He blinks.</p><p>"Practicing?"</p><p>Gon nods. "Practicing."</p><p>Practicing. <em> Practicing for what? </em></p><p>If it were for soccer or wrestling or swimming or track, Gon should be at school. If it's for the mock exams at the end of the month, Gon would have dragged him to the library by now and proceed to do absolutely no studying at all until Killua nags at him.</p><p>
  <em> Practice… The music… </em>
</p><p>"For the dance?"</p><p>Gon brightens, an incandescent excitement. He lunges forward towards Killua enthusiastically and Killua flinches even further backwards, practically lying on Gon's uncovered pillows.</p><p>Something shifts on both sides of him, a motion Killua catches at the outskirts of his peripheral vision and when he moves his head, his nose bumps into the tip of Gon's.</p><p>He sucks in a breath. Heat bursts on his cheeks, racing up to the tips of his ears.</p><p>A disaster of a boy. Demanding and <em> shameless. </em></p><p>Gon's eyes dart in several directions, at the headboard, the open window, the pillow by Killua's head, like he doesn't know where to settle them. He scratches his cheek, rubs the back of his neck, taps his fingers on the mattress. <em> Stalling, he's stalling. </em></p><p>Finally, Gon stills.</p><p>"Yeah, I'm planning on going!"</p><p>"Why do you need to practice for that, then? It's not like anyone is going to care. <em> You </em>don't usually care."</p><p>Because Gon <em> doesn't. </em>No one would. Hunter Academy is prestigious in its own right, but there, knowing how to throw a good solid punch matters a lot more than knowing how to do a proper box step.</p><p>A school dance at Hunter Academy is just as likely to end with a brawl or a food fight than any actual dancing.</p><p>"Well…"</p><p>"There's someone…" Gon trails off, dragging his eyes back. His forearms, bracketing Killua, push into the mattress. Killua feels his body fall deeper into the space they carve.</p><p>The room is suddenly so quiet. Like a tomb or a cathedral. Killua considers sitting up but just the thought of Gon moving away when they're so <em> close </em>makes his throat clench. Every minute movement he makes seems blasphemous, forbidden. He's certain that if he moves too much, too quickly, the strange fragility will fizzle away.</p><p>He doesn't know what to make of it, Gon being so cautious.</p><p><em> There's that look again. </em> The liquid gold one, dripping down Killua's spine. He can't look away.</p><p>His fingers dig into the crumpled covers.</p><p>"Someone?" Killua whispers, tilting his head just a bit to the side to put <em> some </em> space between their mouths. He's not <em> that </em>far gone.</p><p>"Someone." Gon nods slow, careful, like his clumsy but earnest spins in the middle of his room.</p><p>
  <em> Oh. Mito was right after all. </em>
</p><p>"They shouldn't care about stuff like that, either, even if you do dance like a monkey learning sign language." Killua says, rolling his eyes just to break the staring between them. It's true even if it's petty.</p><p><em> Even if you look dumb, I don't care that you dance like a monkey learning sign language, </em> Killua thinks helplessly but doesn't say outloud. He is <em> not </em> that far gone. He is <em> not. </em></p><p>Gon chuckles and it's <em> quiet, when have you ever laughed quietly, </em>and shrugs.</p><p>"They don't. I still want to impress h- them." Killua feels Gon's hands grip the sheets around his head, forming a fist.</p><p>It's frustration, the beaten down will of a boy who cannot bulldoze his way to what he wants.</p><p>
  <em> Who are they, hm? Who are they, and what are they like to make you this way? Have I met them? Do I know them? Do they know you? Do you want them to? </em>
</p><p>"I'll teach you."</p><p>"What? Really, Killua?"</p><p>"Yeah, now get off me."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>With Gon in front of him, Killua has never been more aware of the fact that Gon is not graceful.</p><p>He fakes it wondrously, unwittingly, because the world is lenient with Gon until it isn't. The world lets Gon toe lines the should never be crossed then pushes him off to one side and tugs him to the other. Killua has always been up for a good gamble but only Gon plays with risks as high as he does.</p><p><em> He's insane. </em> It shouldn't be as thrilling as it is.</p><p>(Now, how to take that insanity, that unbridled raw energy, and tame it. Coordinate it. Cooperate with it.</p><p><em> How to compromise with a disaster, a force of nature, a heavenly body at the center of a galaxy. An organized mess. </em>)</p><p>"Where do I put-"</p><p>Wordlessly, Killua takes Gon's large clunky hands, roughened by fist fights and sports festivals. He has watched these hands grow, knows their gentleness with fox kits and cruelty with bullies. These fingers that have plucked caterpillars off the ground to lay them on leaves and these fingers that have fractured bones.</p><p>Slowly, <em> follow me please, </em>he sets the palms of Gon's hands on his hips. The heat of them sink in immediately. His eyes flicker a bit at the sweep of Gon's thumbs over his hipbones, accidental most likely even after the fourth pass.</p><p>"I'm pretty sure you're gonna lead, so once you get the basics down, I'll follow, okay?"</p><p>Music plays from Killua's phone this time. Set in the middle of Gon's mostly clear study table. It's classical, one of Senritsu's recommendations. Killua knows this song by now.</p><p>It starts off slow, a gradual tiptoeing rise. The crescendo of it is always brilliantly jarring.</p><p>Killua places his hands on Gon's shoulders.</p><p>"Keep your eyes on me and not on your feet, dumbass."</p><p>Killua breathes in the look that Gon gives him, obedient and determined. Polished copper. Liquid gold. <em> Is this how you'll look at them? It's perfect. </em></p><p>They move.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><em> Good god, </em>he's terrible.</p><p>No rhythm. No harmony. Absolutely no compromise. It figures that Gon would dance the same way he does literally everything else in his life, whether eating, fighting, or loving.</p><p>All or nothing.</p><p>It's more a spar than a dance. They do not follow the melody of the song at <em> all. </em> It's discordant, the way Killua steps one way and Gon chases after him instead of going the other. When Killua pulls away, Gon pulls him back in.</p><p>It's a catastrophe.</p><p>Gon's too aggressive, his grip on Killua's waist too tight and his hands <em> wander </em> like anything, up Killua's back then dragging back down to his hips, fingernails grazing his thighs and thumbs on the bones jutting from his hips and <em> fuck </em> how is he expected to <em> think </em> through that let alone <em> dance? </em></p><p>He shouldn't laugh, even if to ease the hysteria. He shouldn't enable Gon when he's trying to <em> teach </em>him, for fuck's sake.</p><p>
  <em> Is this how you'll touch them? Brilliant. Outstanding. Do it again. </em>
</p><p>"Straighten your back. Left. Right. Stop <em> tugging, </em> I'm right here. Good. Good. Step together, step apart, step together. Eyes on me, idiot, and <em> hands, </em> Gon, your <em> hands. </em>"</p><p>It's fun, though.</p><p>Gon steps on his toes and he should be very grateful they're both wearing socks.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>"Are you thinking of going with anyone?"</p><p>"Alluka. She hasn't been to a school dance before."</p><p>"No one asked you?"</p><p>“Couldn’t be bothered to.”</p><p>"I could go with you both.”</p><p>He smacks Gon upside the head. Gon clutches his face, kicks his feet and whines.</p><p>"Killua! That hurts!"</p><p>"Well, <em> that </em>was terrible. Come on, once more from the top."</p><p>"Again?"</p><p>
  <em> "Again." </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>A mess, hopeless, <em> graceless, </em>but hardworking, and after hours of stepping on each other's feet, falling into laundry piles over awful turn after awful turn, charging Killua's phone twice, and getting yelled at for being late to dinner, they manage to cobble up a decent enough routine.</p><p>"What are you staring at?" Killua asks over his shoulder after a pretty good spin. He tilts his head back to look at him. The arms around Killua's waist, finally still and steady enough to catch a partner instead of dropping them, tighten just a bit.</p><p>"Nothing. You're just really good at this."</p><p>(Gon is a simple person at the heart of him. He's honest and genuine and nothing at all like Killua's old etiquette instructors, correcting his posture, the way he walks, the way he speaks, chipping away at every habit and mannerism until he was <em> flawless.)</em></p><p>"Well, I had to be."</p><p>
  <em> You don't deserve that. </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>And the point is this:</p><p>At 7:52 in the morning, clear a path or else Gon Freecs will crash into you, sandwich in his mouth while he tries to stab a straw through the punchhole of a juicebox. No, he will not get it, yes, he will mangle the straw, yes, the janitor does not mind and yes, Killua has a pair of sharp scissors to cut the side open for Gon to sip through before Wing-sensei comes in at 8 AM.</p><p>(Stupid, impudent, reckless, and stubborn, graceless in the way the universe finds infinitely amusing so it is lenient with him until it is more entertaining to ruin him.)</p><p>Is this what it’s like to be in the eye of a tornado? Watch the world swirl around you, a standstill, a tipping point, safe from the carnage as long as you <em> move, keep up, do not falter. </em> One step, two steps, four, six, eight, watch out for that pile, step over the books, here comes the crescendo, you know what to do, eight seven six five four <em> spin and--</em></p><p>"Hey--”</p><p>
  <em> Come with me? </em>
</p><p>“-- again, Killua?”</p><p>
  <em>-- fall.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Finally, one perfect flawless runthrough of a waltz.</em>
</p><p>(The point is this, Gon Freecs is a disaster in motion, steer clear, step aside, or be swept away, and disasters-catastrophes-graceless boys do not move like <em> this. </em></p><p>Like water in the blood or air in your lungs, easy and effortless and all-consuming.)</p><p>"Again, Gon."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>FINALLY finished this. Or rather, worked up the brain power to cut and edit. I hope you enjoy, tele, Miah, and reeya. 💛</p></blockquote></div></div>
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